


Maman's Boy

by writtenthroughtime



Series: WTT's Posts for ImagineClaireandJamie [26]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Fergus POV, Mother-Son Relationship, Prestonpans, Season 2 Missing Scene - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8555278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: Prompt:Prestonpans: Ferguson making his way from the battlefield, just wanting to see Claire and Jamie. He realizes that he thinks of them as his parents.





	

_Sleepiness._

_Pain._

_So very **tired**._

Fergus stumbled in the mud as he staggered his way back to camp.

He had fought. He had **_killed_**.

What would Milord think? Or worse yet, Milady? Would she think different of him for fighting, for doing what he thought was right? She would be worried; _that_ was certain. He wouldn’t be surprised if she boxed his ears for scaring her and not staying as he had been told. Milord had entrusted to him the safety of Milady and the other women, but he couldn’t sit idle while the rest of the men were fighting, winning glory for themselves! He wanted to be a part of that. He ached with the need to prove himself worthy.

He looked up from the ground puzzled by the blurred, double building he was sure was where Milady had set up her surgery. Why were there two?

Why did his stomach feel as though it would like to nothing more than purge itself here, in the street?

Holding a hand up to his face, Fergus looked at the blood splattered fingers, ten fingers on one hand.

“Mon Dieu!” he exclaimed out loud, falling onto multiple sacks of grain. How could he live with himself? He left Milady unprotected and killed a man in cold blood. His stomach rolled again, this time with more force. Fergus groaned and leaned over, his head falling into his hands. His head spinning like a top, the dizziness almost too much to go on, but he must! He must find his family.

A soldier grabbed his arm as he staggered back to his feet.

“Come on lad,” he said in gruff Scottish accent. “Red Jamie is no gonna like that his whelp fought in the battle, best get ye to where ye’ll be found.”

The man pulled him closer to the blurred buildings--no building, there was only one--and sat him down on the edge of a canon.

Fergus stared ahead, not seeing anything before him the memory of the battle flashed over and over in his mind.

“Fergus!”

Warm, soft, strong hands gripped him pulling him closer to a soft body. A body that did reek of blood and death, but of herbs, comfort, and home: Milady.

With her hands soothing, her eyes full of worry, he knew he shouldn’t have gone to the battle, but now all he could feel was the exhaustion and the overwhelming urge to crawl up on her lap like a babe and sleep forever more.

“I’m just tired, so very tired.” He hoped he actually spoke instead of only thinking it. Milady grasped him to her cradling his head to her bosom, he closed his eyes and let her guide him to safety.


End file.
